AN: This one is…fun. 212 words in case you care.
C: Concentration
He has a knack for ruining her concentration. A whispered word in the hall will keep her mind racing and send a rush of sensation that lodges right between her legs, and the way he smirks at her tells her all she needs to know. He knows exactly what he is doing to her resolve as he murmurs what he would do to her if they weren't in school.
But the worst part is en Español. It is the one class they have together, and he sits directly behind her. She is amazed that she isn't failing Spanish because every day, without fail, he ruins her careful composure.
It starts with one calloused finger that caresses the skin exposed by her boat-neck shirt. He fiddles with the wisps of hair that have escaped her bun, and then follows her hairline to rub directly behind her right ear. Another finger joins the original as he begins to make a spiraling pattern down the side of her neck. She shudders at his touch, and tries—desperately—to focus on the teacher. She fails of course because he leans forward just enough for her to smell him. His finger on her shoulder now she resigns herself to failing Spanish—so long as this doesn't stop.
AN: Yeah…that almost became the next chapter to Dolled-Up Zen instead. Actually this will be continued in a more "adult" fashion in Dolled-Up Zen if you're interested. Also I wrote an alternate "B" which is called Bouquet and can be found in my stories list. :) Reviews to me are like candy to Fez (or Jackie to Hyde…)